


Snap

by Hugabug



Category: Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, POV Second Person, Physical Disability, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6212335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hugabug/pseuds/Hugabug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>meet, connect, cut.</p>
<p>that was the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snap

**Author's Note:**

> the blind au nobody asked for.

You have always felt disconnected from the world.

Just imagine, a world so bright and so colourful and so vibrant compared to yours, a world so bleak and so dark and so blank. No light. No colour. No anything.

Just sound, smell, and touch. Other than that–  _Nothing._

You grew up being called a freak. The kid with dark sunglasses. The kid with the metal cane. The kid with the weird typewriter. The kid with no eyes.

So at an early age, you grew up strong. You grew up callused. Meet, connect, cut, was the process.

_Don’t create lasting bonds, Miong._

_Nobody cares, Miong._

_Don’t tie yourself to anybody, Miong._  

_The string will break, Miong._

_It will pull you down, Miong._  

_It will snap, Miong._

And you knew that. Knew that so well. Knew that with your sister. Knew that with your friends. Knew that with everybody you have ever met along the way.

_But_ why, _Miong?_ Why _did you subject yourself to this? To this_ pain?

You tied yourself to him. You knew, deep in your heart, that it was wrong. That it was stupid. Tie yourself up, fall in love, let it strengthen. Idiot, idiot,  _idiot._

But you did it anyway. You allowed yourself to be tied. Stupid move.  _Stupid move._

And now what? Where is the string now? There it is, slipping away, unwinding from between your fingers, dancing away from your grasp.

But you fight it. You grasp at the string, wrap it tightly around your wrist, pull it toward you. It’s chaffing your skin, scrubbing it raw, cutting your fingers—

Then you feel his hand go limp and you hear his last breath and the string snaps. 

And it lays there, tattered and broken and hanging limp on the floor. The remains of a silvery beauty. The remains of the only thing that has ever brought light to your world. The only thing that you have ever allowed yourself to have.

And you feel empty. You feel worthless. You feel frail. And small. And lonely. And– And—

And unloved.

But what can you do? It’s your fault.  _Why did you allow this, Miong? Why?_  You brought him close. You brought him near. You allowed him to get under your skin. You fell prey to his kind words, sweet tone, and witty manner.

_You_  allowed yourself to love.  _You_  allowed yourself to fall.

_You_  allowed your soul to break.  _You_  allowed your heart to shatter.

_Now what?_  you ask yourself. _Now what do I do?_

There is only one thing you could do.

You gather up the remains of the string ( _All gone, Miong. All gone, all gone…_ ) and you cast them out. Far into the void. Far away from your mind. From your heart. 

You cast  _everything_  out (Memories.  _Precious_.  _Memories_.) with it. You shut your doors. You turn your back upon everything.

And you, yet again, return your heart to its casket of ice.

But this time, you feel it harden just a little bit more.

**Author's Note:**

> second person is kinda freeing to write sometimes, idk lang why.


End file.
